Bus
by Silk Weaver
Summary: Vincent may hate traveling out to see Cid, but it's always worth it. AU. Valenwind.


**Author's Note:** Another birthday present! This one is for Silence_Laughs, another Livejournal friend. She's here on as PfenixB, and her and Calvi have been posting a lot of the roleplays they do. Go check them out!

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**Bus**

The bus ride was quickly becoming the equivalent of hell for Vincent. The purse of the woman sitting next to him was digging into his side, and whenever he tried to move away from her, toward the side of the bus, she simply ended up moving closer. The day was already uncomfortably warm, and the number of people crammed inside without air conditioning made the whole bus far too hot. If he had actually been leaning against his seat, he would have been stuck to the back with sweat, the way some of the other passengers were. The window was dingy and nearly impossible to actually look out of, but he still kept his eyes turned toward the glass. He didn't need to see the other passengers staring at him.

Above almost all other things, Vincent hated to take public transportation. The buses and cars that Shinra used for employees was bad enough, but a city bus filled with civilians was infinitely worse. Being a tall, pale man in all black got him a few looks, and his red eyes were uncommon, so he was stared at for that, but the bruises and bandages showing from underneath his dark clothing were attracting the most attention. He could feel the eyes of the other people on the bus focused on him, and it made him squirm uncomfortably, though he did his best to hide it. If he had been able to avoid taking the bus, he would have welcomed it gladly. The inclination to simply get off at the next stop was strong. The only thing that stopped him was that it was far from the end of the line, where he should get off, and walking all the way wouldn't stop people from staring at him.

Vincent simply hated taking the bus. The only reason that he did it was to see Cid. Normally, when he and his boyfriend were going to see each other, Cid would stop by to pick him up in his car, and drive the both of them to wherever they were going. Vincent himself couldn't drive because of his paralyzed left arm, but the arrangement usually worked for them.

For the past few months, though, contact had gradually dropped off. They were both busy quite often, so they were used to not being able to see each other for long periods of time. The distance between their homes made idle visits difficult and unlikely. Still, they usually managed time for phone calls and weekends out in between all of the other things that they had to do. They weren't pining teenagers, who needed to be with each other every second of the day. Still, he was used to having _some_ contact, and he had been surprised, and a little hurt, when that contact stopped. His efforts to get in touch with Cid only resulted in short and brusque conversations, or the answering machine that Cid apparently wasn't checking any more. He wasn't even sure if the mechanic knew that he'd been injured.

Finally, it had just been too much. He'd had an awful week, had been in pain from his wounds, and one of the few times he'd needed some sort of human comfort, it had been denied. The anger and worry had built up inside of him until he'd decided that he was going out to give Cid a visit, even though he hated taking the bus. It felt like things were _ending_, somehow, and he was not about to let Cid go without even trying.

The bus jolted again, and Vincent gritted his teeth as his side was jabbed once again. He was willing to endure it if it meant that he could see Cid again, but he was going to hate every moment of it.

His stop finally came, and Vincent quickly stepped off, eager to be away from the stares of the other passengers. It was only a short walk from the bus stop to Cid's house, and Vincent set off for it at an easy pace. He was determined to get an explanation for the sudden change in demeanor, but it hurt to think of what he would find. He kept coming to the same conclusion, even as he tried to convince himself that Cid would not do that to him, especially not after being the one to initiate both their friendship and their relationship.

When he turned onto the street Cid's house was on, he was surprised to see a moving van parked outside of Cid's house. Biting down a spike of worry, he walked over to the house, pausing for a moment to look at the van. It was half full, but the things inside were not ones that he recognized. He turned away from the van and was walking toward the front door just as someone came out of the house.

The man was neat and well-dressed, with dark brown hair and a neat beard, the complete opposite of the casual way Cid usually acted. This was not one of Cid's friends that he knew. Vincent didn't recognize him at all, and the man certainly didn't recognize him, from the surprised stare he was giving Vincent. He didn't even notice that he was staring until Vincent shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

As soon as Vincent did, the man seemed to come to himself with a start. "Excuse me. How may I help you?" he asked politely. Vincent twitched at the slightly impatient tone. He almost wished that he could simply walk away. He had come here to talk to Cid, not to be stared at again, but he couldn't leave and come back another time. He had to do this now.

Instead of slinking away the way he wanted to, Vincent straightened up to his full height and eyed the man with a calm gaze. "If Highwind is here, I would like to speak to him," he said. He couldn't help but feel a stab of irritation at himself for the silly way that he had been acting. He should not have let the stares affect him so much. _Their_ opinions were not the ones that mattered. He couldn't let other people's judgments ruin him again. Cid had broken him of that habit, and he wasn't about to change that.

The man blinked in surprise before turning slightly, as if he were about to go back into the house. "I'm sorry, but we're a bit busy at the moment. If you like, I could go find him and ask him if he wants to come out," the man offered. "Is that all right, mister...?"

"Valentine. I'm... a friend of Cid's," Vincent said with a nod. He had wanted to say "boyfriend," or "lover" in the way he had grown accustomed to, but he wouldn't when he was no longer sure of what they had any more. "I'll wait here."

With a nod, the man turned to enter the house, but he had only taken one step inside when Vincent heard Cid's familiar voice from inside.

"Reeve!" The mechanic bellowed. "What th' hell's taking so long? Getting the rest of those pieces should only take-" Cid appeared in front of the man- Reeve?- still grouching, paying no attention to the open door or what was beyond it.

Reeve shook his head with good-humored irritation. "I was going to, but-"

"Cid." Vincent interrupted him, stepping forward into the doorway. Cid looked harried, he noticed, as if he hadn't been getting enough sleep.

The startled look Cid gave him as he turned to Vincent and the happiness that blossomed on his face a moment later soothed all of Vincent's worries, and he found himself giving a small smile back. Whatever had happened to keep Cid from talking to him, it wasn't the things he had feared.

Cid charged forward and grabbed Vincent by the upper arms, pulling him forward excitedly. "Vince! What're you doing here? It's been ages, babe, I'm sorry I didn't call, but there was just so much shit going on, and I lost my phone..." He finally seemed to notice the bandages peeking out from under Vincent's clothes, and quickly loosened his grip, moving his hands down to instead hold Vincent's hands, both the good hand and the paralyzed one. "Shit, what happened? Are y' alright?" He suddenly looked guilty. "Was this one o' the things ya tried to call me about?"

Vincent worked his way through the questions with a small smile. "There was an accident at work several weeks ago. I was not badly injured, but I did try to call you. I got worried when you still didn't answer, so I came up today to come and see you. I missed you." The admission was no longer strange to him, even with the other man standing there, looking confused.

"So, Cid. Are you going to introduce us?" Reeve asked, glancing back and forth between the two. Cid gave a sheepish grin and released Vincent's hands to shuffle nervously. "Ah, right. Reeve, This's Vincent Valentine, m' boyfriend. Vince, This is Reeve Tuesti. He's an old buddy o' mine, 'n he's had some trouble in the place he's been living, so he came out here. He's gonna be staying with me fer a while." Cid gave Vincent a look as if asking "is that all right?"

Reeve nodded politely and held out a hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you, Vincent," he said pleasantly, as Vincent returned the handshake and the nod.

Cid looked relieved, and waved them both into the house. "Yeah, great. C'mon, Reeve, it's about time we took a break. Y' want something, Vin? I know it takes ages for ya to get out here." He led the both of them into the kitchen and started to shuffle around for food while both Reeve and Vincent took a seat at the table.

There were a few long moments of silence with the background noise of Cid's searching before Reeve spoke. "So," he said pleasantly, "How did you and Cid meet?"

Despite any previous misgivings, Vincent couldn't stay suspicious of Reeve. The man was pleasant and intelligent, and didn't pry when Vincent avoided a question or act smug that he was staying with Cid while Vincent wasn't there. Vincent found himself being drawn into a fascinating conversation with the man, interrupted only when Cid came back over to the table with plates in hand.

Before Vincent could take in and point out that hamburgers were usually a meal that took two hands to eat, Cid had grabbed a knife and fork and began cutting it up into bite-sized pieces. Vincent noted with a wry smile that though Cid had made his own and Reeve's in the traditional manner, he had left the bun off of Vincent's.

"There ya go, babe," Cid said, pulling his chair next to Vincent's and digging into his own food and ignoring the puzzled look on Reeve's face. Vincent sighed as he picked up his fork, since Cid obviously wasn't going to do the explaining.

"I can't use my left arm," he explained, so used to giving the explanation by now that he brushed off the look of sympathy from Reeve. "It has been paralyzed for several years."

Reeve opened his mouth to say something, but Cid cut him off, speaking around a mouthful of food. "It don't mean he's goddamn invalid, Reeve, ya don't need to apologize for anything. Now shut up, eat yer food, and drink your fuckin tea."

The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly. There was more conversation, Vincent helped them finish unloading the moving van and unpack Reeve's things, and Cid stole kisses at every opportunity. Before he knew it, it was dark outside, and he was slowly giving into Cid's pleading for him to stay the night.

Finally, Vincent sighed, worn down by Cid's pleading but infuriatingly logical arguments. "All right," he said wearily, cutting him off. "I'll stay."

Cid's grin both warmed him and frightened him.

Later that night he and Cid were lying in bed together with Cid's hands in his hair and Vincent's one good arm over Cid's waist in a loose embrace. Vincent was feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time, and he got the idea that Cid was as well, from the sleepy smile on his face. He pulled Cid closer, relishing in the warmth from the mechanic's body. "I missed you," he murmured. "But I'm not taking the bus up to see you again."

The hands petting through his hair slowed but didn't stop. He heard Cid chuckle, but resolutely kept his eyes closed. "Course not, Vince," he muttered back. "Now that everythin's settled down, ya won't have to. Now c'mon, I wanna go to sleep."

"Hmm." Vincent sighed and moved closer to Cid once again, already half asleep. Cid was still there for him, even after such a long time away. Things would be all right.


End file.
